


almost like you stole it

by takesguts



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Implied Cheating, M/M, Not rly tho, boyfriend stealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takesguts/pseuds/takesguts
Summary: How is Lip dating a guy if he won't even touch his dick?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Death_by_Gallavich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_by_Gallavich/gifts).



> NOT the same universe as my other Lip/Mickey/Ian fic. Different setting entirely. I am drunk. Tequila is an inspiration.

Lip has a fucking boyfriend, and nobody is making a big deal about it. What the fuck.

 

 

  
"How is this not weird for anyone else?" Ian asks, somewhat scandalized.

 

 

  
"Pass the potatoes," Fiona requests, "whats his name, Lip?"

 

 

  
"Mickey," Lip replies, taking a swig of beer, and everyone continues to not react.

 

 

  
"Seriously," Ian demands, glancing at all of his siblings incredulously. He's not sure why he's so perturbed by this. Realistically he thinks it should be funny, or maybe feel some sort of camaraderie out of the whole thing. His brother, player extraordinaire, total womanizer has a goddamn boyfriend. And Ian doesn't. What the fuck?

 

 

"Seriously," he stresses again, "no one? Not one of you is shocked."

 

 

  
"You've had boyfriends," Debbie comments, glancing up from her phone screen.

 

 

  
"I'm gay," Ian replies, frowning at her, because it makes fucking sense for him to have had boyfriends. Fucking obviously.

 

 

  
"We gonna meet him?" Fiona continues, like Ian's not sitting two chairs away completely floored by this.

 

 

  
Shrugging, Lip gets up from the table clearing his plate and chugging the last of his beer.

 

 

  
"Dunno," he says, dropping his dish in the sink, "gotta go, later guys."

 

 

  
He kisses Liam's head and ruffles Carl's hair and is out the door before any of them can reply.

 

 

  
"Can we talk about this now?" He blurts, once the door is closed, because fucking really, there's no way not a single one of them isn't confused as shit about this.

 

 

  
"Got to dissect a frog today," Carl shares around a mouthful of food, "it smelled bad."

 

 

  
Dinner is regular after that, and Ian entertains the idea his family has been taken over by pod people before he retreats to his bedroom and reads a bunch of old comics and smokes a joint he finds on the dresser before he falls asleep.

 

 

  
\- - - - - - -

  
Lip has a boyfriend and he's fucking. Fucking cute as shit, is what.

 

 

  
Ian can't help the way his jaw drops open, surprised. Whatever he was expecting it certainly wasn't this, though truthfully he couldn't really put a finger on what he really expected regardless. Definitely not this, though, this so obviously masculine guy despite his short stature and subtle softer curves in places maybe most men don't have. He's a lovely little thing, almost absolutely a guy Ian would go for if he was looking to pick someone up for a night.

 

 

  
"Ian," Lip says, and Ian feels kind of smug at his brothers attempt to keep it cool. Ian's willing to bet Lip thought the house would be empty.

 

 

  
"Yo, you said nobody was gonna be home man," the guy - Mickey, Ian recalls - says, sounding a little peeved.

 

 

  
"Didn't think there would be," Lip responds, giving Ian a pointed look, clearly telling him to get the fuck out.

 

 

  
Yeah, okay, Ian is way too intrigued by this whole thing. Grinning obnoxiously, Ian leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head, letting Lip know he has no intentions of going anywhere.

 

 

  
"Got the day off," Ian shrugs, casual and unbothered, "girl asked for my shift."

 

 

  
"And there's nothing of importance you could be doing," Lip sighs, and next to him Mickey shifts impatiently.

 

 

  
"Look, I'm gonna -"

 

 

  
"Ian," he interrupts, "I'm Ian."

 

 

  
The look Lips boyfriend gives, with narrowed, gorgeous blue eyes is indescribable. There's no real emotion to it, maybe some curiosity but he can't say the guy has regarded Lip with much eagerness either.

 

 

  
"Mickey," the guys says gruffly, scratching the back of his neck.

 

 

  
"So you're the guy my brothers been talking about," and Lip hasn't been talking about him, really, outside of that first instance. It's worth the lie though, to see his brother who is usually all certainty and charisma, look so damn uncomfortable.

 

 

  
Mickey raises an eyebrow, and Ian thinks the expression looks good on him.

 

 

"I sure as fuck hope not."

 

 

  
At this, Ian laughs out loud.

 

 

  
From over Mickey's shoulder, Lip is glaring at him more insistently, eyebrows raised and as much as Ian wants to continue to heckle his brother, it's sibling contract to clear out when the opportunity of getting laid arises.  


 

  
"Well, as lovely as it's been," Ian starts, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, "Lip's right. There's probably something of importance I should be doing." He phrases the last statement mockingly, giving a cheeky smile. "You two have fun. Remember, board games are in the upstairs closet, and Fiona left some snacks in the fridge."

 

 

He dodges Lip's elbow easily as he sidles around the couple, casting one last appreciative glance over his shoulder at the dark haired man standing bewilderingly in his kitchen before heading out the door.

 

 

\- - - - - -

Something of importance, as fucking if.

 

 

  
Ian jogs four blocks, not really pushing himself while he continues to maybe daydream about Lip's new plaything, because that has to be what this is. Lip hardly ever even kept a real girlfriend, and now he's spouting some bullshit about dating a guy? Fuck off with that. There's something more going on there, Ian can practically smell it. Briefly, Ian wonders if maybe they're up to something illegal, Mickey's bad boy aura, knuckle tattoos and obvious Southside attitude heavily imply the possibility, but Ian at the very least - despite this odd turn of events - knows his brother. Lip wouldn't be involved in anything too illegal without telling Ian about it, even in small detail.

 

 

  
That's why, after another two blocks, Ian finds himself jogging back home. The risk of hearing his brother bang some guy is plausible, but he argues with himself that witnessing this walk of shame is absolutely worth the mild trauma.

 

 

  
Ian opts for the front door, because it creaks less when opened slowly - and he has to be quiet. Years of experience in the Gallagher house gives everyone a keen sense of perception; the ability to find the last remaining booze in the house, or hear the doors opening while in the middle of fornicating. He goes as far as taking his shoes off in the doorway before tiptoeing into the living room, going as far to leave the front door open as to not risk the noise of closing it.

 

 

  
Surprisingly, it's quiet - or maybe not surprisingly, Ian has no idea what kind of lover this Mickey guy is. Well, aside from the fact the dude is definitely a bottom. Ian may have been left fielded with this whole 'my brother is banging a guy' thing, but he's certain that Lip would most certainly not be on the receiving end.

 

 

  
For twenty more minutes he waits, seated on the couch - he tries out various positions, for the one that appears the most like he just got in, didn't mean to intrude again, but it doesn't matter because he jolts upright eagerly the minute he hears footsteps on the stairs.

 

 

He's surprised, however, when it's only Mickey who descends down the stairs, Lip-less and still sporting a very obvious boner.

 

 

For the second time that day, Ian finds his jaw dropping open, and he's speaking before he has half a mind to stop himself, "Is everything o-"

 

 

"You can fuck right off," Mickey grunts, out the front door in mere seconds.

 

 

Huh, Ian thinks, blinking at the still open door.

 

 

  
\- - - - - -

 

 

It happens on three more occasions.

 

 

  
Ian stops hanging around when Lip shows up at the house with Mickey in tow - that would be too obvious. Since that first day Ian hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, though. Mickey. Hasn't been able to stop thinking about Mickey. Wrong as it is, Ian knows for certain he's at the very least crushing on his brother's current flavor. Seeing Mickey dart out of their home with an obvious hard on has done nothing but fuel his curiosity.

 

 

The second time, Mickey isn't hard, but there's a cum stain on the front of his jeans and Ian's mouth actually waters at the sight not to mention the rush of heat across his pelvis. This time he manages to keep his fucking mouth shut. Mickey throws him a hard look, clearly aware of his staring, but he manages to shut the door at least.

 

 

  
The third time is sheer ridiculousness. Ian had actually had something to do that day - running an errand for Vee, who was house bound with heavy period bleeding, and he was disappointed when he ran into Mickey and Lip exiting the house. (He had to hand it to his brother though, he was impeccable with picking days that literally the chance of running into anybody but Ian were exceptionally high.) By the time he arrived home, he had anticipated Mickey to be long gone by then.

 

 

  
What he did not expect was the sight of Lip passed out on his bed, fast asleep, and the sounds of someone - Mickey - jerking off furiously in their bathroom.

 

 

  
When Ian's own cock hardened at the soft grunts and slick sounds, he felt like some sort of pervert, but it didn't stop him from lingering outside the door longer then was probably (definitely) appropriate. Meaning, when he heard the sexy little gasp Mickey made as he came did Ian make himself scarce.

 

 

The only thing that quieted his momentary guilt was that he now no longer had any questions about his brother's relationship with the guy. Mickey always left so hurriedly because he wasn't getting off - he wasn't getting off because Lip wasn't touching his dick, most likely.

 

 

  
Any and every argument Ian had feebly been feeding himself over the past two weeks about stealing his brother's sort of boyfriend miraculously disappeared. Having sex with someone who doesn't care if you get off, well that's just stupid.

 

 

Ian cares if Mickey gets off - even though they only met the one time, officially. Ian wants Mickey to get off, preferably with him; wants to make him moan and writhe and fucking scream in every way Lip can't and won't.

 

 

\- - - - -

 

  
The fourth time is when Ian goes in for the kill, so to speak.

  
This time Ian is ready, made sure to casually question Lip about his plans with Mickey for the next week, playing up the roll of supportive and lewdly encouraging brother as best he could while internally planning his moves. He couldn't approach Mickey in the house, no way. Not with the risk of Lip overhearing, nor does Ian think Mickey would let Ian catch him inside. It had to be coincidental. Or, well, at least seem coincidental.

 

 

  
Which is why he waits outside, hidden in the back of their broken down van. He anticipates their arrival a little too early, and winds up sweating to death in the heat long before they even show up which maybe dampens his chances of coincidence a bit if he doesn't manage to come up with a good excuse as to why he's drenched and panting in jeans when he casually stumbles into Mickey outside of their house. Luckily, it seems that the heat of the day isn't solely effecting his dumb ass when Mickey exits their house not even fifteen minutes later - a sprint for them, really.

 

 

  
Taken off guard, Ian scrambles through the front of the van clumsily, nearly falling out the front door. He makes his way around the house so that Mickey doesn't see him, and he can exit on the corner where he's sure to run into him no matter which direction he takes home. It's foolproof.

 

 

  
Literally, because he runs into Mickey on that exact corner.

 

 

  
"Oh," he says, perhaps a little too immediately by the way Mickey's blue eyes narrow, but he barrels on regardless, "hey, Mickey. What's up?"

 

 

  
If Ian didn't know Mickey was gay, his next move - to obviously glance down to the crotch of his pants (where he is still hard, thank fucking god) would have probably been a death sentence. As it is, well.  


 

  
"I don't know Gallagher," Mickey retorts, brash and defensive, "you tell me. You stalking me?"

 

 

  
There's a million things Ian could say to that. Yes, no, maybe, I don't know, it's weird how I run into you all the time, right?

 

 

  
Instead he settles for, "How are you dating my brother if he won't touch your dick?"

 

 

  
Eloquency has never really been his strong point. Actually, none of the Gallaghers seem to have acquired that particular trait.

 

 

  
"Fuckin' excuse me?" Mickey snarls, and okay, fair, Ian should have expected that.

 

 

  
"I mean," he stammers, just a little while he works on his footing, "you're not getting off. Maybe I'm stalking a little, fine, but how could I not? And knowing you're leaving unsatisfied every time - or jerking off in our bathroom, maybe even your bathroom when you get home has just -"

 

 

  
"What are you tryna fuckin' say?" Mickey interrupts stonily, squaring his shoulders like he's ready for a fight.

 

 

  
It's then Ian realizes - Mickey has no idea that Ian is gay. Mickey is assuming his admittedly awkward confrontation is about the homosexual deviancy him and his brother are getting up to. For whatever reason, Lip failed to mention that Ian also batted for their team, or whatever.

 

 

  
Inside, Ian preens.

 

 

  
Confidence renewed, Ian finds himself squaring his own shoulders, giving a cocky smirk, "I'm saying, what's the point of having sex if you aren't getting off from it?"

 

 

  
It seems to have the desired effect. All the tension in Mickey's body evaporates, and even though he's no longer hard when Ian chances a glance down again, Ian knows he's got Mickey's attention in the proper way.

 

 

  
"I don't, ah," Mickey shifts on his feet awkwardly, thumbing the side of his nose while his eyes flicker back and forth between Ian and everything else around them.

 

 

  
"I get it," Ian offers, gesturing sympathetically, "Southside. Gays are hard to come by. But I'm here to tell you - don't settle for bad sex. That's just stupid."

 

 

  
By this point, Mickey is fishing out a cigarette and lighting it, demeanor entirely changed, even from the first time Ian met him. Everything about his face and posture is screaming flirtatious now, hips angled toward Ian.

 

 

  
"Oh yeah?" He inquires, lifting an eyebrow while he takes a deep drag of his cigarette, cheeks hallowing in a way that's absolutely intentional, and Ian takes a few steps closer. "What would you know about good sex?"

 

 

  
Chuckling darkly, Ian closes the rest of the space between them, glancing around the street to make sure they're alone. Two fingers on his left hand curl in the beltloop of Mickey's jeans, tugging him closer, while his other hand reaches up to extract the cigarette from the shorter man's mouth.

 

 

  
"If you'll follow me this way, I'd be delighted to show you."

 

 

  
\- - - - - -

 

 

  
It becomes a thing.

 

 

  
Ian knows Mickey isn't actually cheating on his brother, not really. Turns out they met down at the Alibi one night when they were both wasted, and Mickey ended up giving Lip head, to which he exclaimed it was the best blow job he ever received. Which is why he ended up keeping Mickey around, and Mickey, living in a house of horrors with an exceedingly homophobic father was in no place to look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever.

 

 

  
Except, now, Ian reminds him with every hard, intentional thrust of his hips, he has to look no further. Ian is more than happy to do everything Lip couldn't and wouldn't do. And as it turns out, he was right about making Mickey moan and scream.

 

 

  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mickey babbles, back arching and heels hooking around Ian's lower back while the redhead drills into him mercilessly, "oh fuck, yes, Ian, yes, yes."

 

 

  
Grinning and sweating, Ian doubles his efforts, one hand braces on the wall the other tucked under Mickey, angling his ass up further, "That's it," he croons, "that's fucking it; look at you, you love this."

 

 

  
Nodding eagerly, Mickey wriggles and writhes, body small and lithe under Ian's, trying desperately to give as good as he's being given but it's futile with the way Ian knows he's owning that ass. Some days, Mickey is just as dominant, fighting for control and taking his pleasure.

 

 

  
Others, however.

 

 

  
"I love it, I love it, I love it," he echoes, arching his back and Ian's own hand slips across his skin, slick and slippery with sweat. His own hairline is starting to dampen at the roots, droplets running down his spine, stinging where Mickey is scratching down his spine.

 

 

  
Every time Ian pushes in, Mickey tightens his asshole reflexively; it's maddening, making Ian feel positively animalistic with his desire to take, to ravage, to leave Mickey spent and quivering after his orgasm so that it's damn near impossible for him to even stand.

 

 

  
"Yeah," Ian grunts, agreeing, and he drops the hand on the wall, grabs Mickey's hips with both hands and doesn't give any warning before flipping Mickey over onto his stomach.

 

 

  
"Oh!" Mickey cries out, immediately scrambling to his elbows and knees, at which Ian responds with an amused and approving laugh. Lip was a wasted effort on Mickey; had no idea what to do with him. Hadn't the slightest idea of just how good Mickey could be, what a little slut he actually was underneath his fuck you up persona.

 

 

  
(It helped, maybe, that Ian was definitely more gifted then his brother, physically. Something Mickey had no problem admitting, nor appraising.)

 

 

  
As the door to the bedroom opens, Ian is actually surprised because what the fuck, Gallagher code of honor, or fucking, whatever. The surprise lessens when he turns his head and notices it's Lip.

 

 

  
Of course the code would be broken if there was a suspected so called adultery going on - Mickey's voice is pretty distinguished. A little bit of that Chicago accent, combined with something so strictly Mickey that it would be impossible not to recognize his inflection.

 

 

  
"Ian," Lip snaps, "what the fuck?"

 

 

  
Underneath him, Mickey starts to scramble, intent on getting out of their compromising position since he, apparently, hasn't exactly ended things with Lip despite not having been with his brother in over a week. Ian prepared for this, though, unbeknownst to Mickey. Probably because he prepared for it even before Mickey started sleeping with him.

 

 

  
"You won't touch his dick," Ian replies casually, like that's all the defense he needs, and really, he thinks - as a man, it should be.

 

 

  
"What?"

 

 

  
His voice is all scandalized, like he doesn't understand what Ian is actually saying, and Ian huffs, rolling his eyes with his hands and grip steady and firm on Mickey's waist while he rolls his hips, making Mickey whine, as if giving a demonstration.

 

 

  
"He isn't getting off with you," Ian continues, and while he had paused at the intrusion, that one thrust has him reminded of how good Mickey's ass feels around his dick and he's starting to rock his pelvis again, short and leisurely.

 

 

  
"Do you fucking mind?" Mickey barks, seeming to have found his voice, and lost his fear.

 

 

  
"But -" Lip argues, one last attempt, "I thought that -"

 

 

  
"You thought wrong," Ian says, effectively cutting him off, "like I said, he wasn't getting off. Why have sex without getting off? That's just lame, man."

 

 

  
Mickey is casting uncertain glances between the siblings, but he's no longer trying to get away, and Ian presses his point further with a hand on the back of Mickey's neck, so that his face is against the mattress.

 

 

  
"Now get out," he demands, casting his brother a devious smile, "I've got some more work to do, since you so rudely interrupted."

 

 

  
A little sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, and Ian secretly hopes Lip is downstairs listening when Mickey comes loudly, thanking him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> IDK WHAT I AM DOING. I like this sexually ambiguous Lip, and I don't knoooow. I may not even be finished for the evening. 
> 
>  
> 
> One day, I will write something that is more then semi-porn. Maybe. One day.
> 
>  
> 
> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, QUEEN. I AM A LAZY POS. It's less drama then you asked for, but hopefully it makes you smile.
> 
>  
> 
> THANK YOU. for stopping by. 
> 
>  
> 
> Namaste~!


End file.
